Degeneration
by HiddenProtagonist
Summary: Zombies, a lethal virus, a dead stalker, and an amnesia stricken boy that is somehow related to the lot. Trust me, you haven't read anything like this before. First try at this, so be nice.
1. Introduction

_This is your fault, Harlan. You knew it would eventually come to this._

_You're asking me to seal my daughter away..._

_I'm not asking you to do anything. I'm telling you to do so, seeing as there is no other way now. Your little project concerning your daughter and that boy was nothing but trouble from the start, Harlan. Three people died because of you; the boy was lucky enough to survive for as long as he did. _

_...For as long as he did? What are you talking about?! I didn't order for his termination!_

_No, you didn't. Mrs. Aristide ordered for him to be killed. She has bigger and better plans for him anyway._

_...What do you mean?_

_**"No, you're absolutely right. I agree with the terms, and thank you again for your tribute to our company- -"**_

A little girl began to cry.

_Why didn't he come today daddy? He promised that he would be here today! _

_Alma, I have something to tell you..._

The sound of something sharp scratching against metal could be heard.

_Check the numbers again if you have to! I didn't come here today just to die!_

_Sir, there's nothing we can do! The restraints won't hold him much longer!_

Screaming filled the vacant air, followed by the sound of snarling and snapping. One distinct scream in particular stood out from the rest; it was drenched in anger and rage.

And then, silence.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One:**

'I'm All Shook Up'

Have you ever experienced something so surreal that it made your head spin? It wasn't a headache, but something far more painful and apparent. Tension built up behind the eyes, and your very skin would begin to burn as if it were set ablaze by raging flames. Your limbs wouldn't react, but would occasionally jolt into action from time to time. And all you can think about is that one surreal thing; the dream that doesn't feel like a dream.

Or maybe it was a nightmare.

_How were they today, Harlan?_

_Normal. There really wasn't anything new to report._

_...Do you think Number Four will fall under the same circumstances?_

_He's lasted twice as long as the others, hasn't he? I want another month added on to the project._

_Do you think that's safe?_

_...I saw her smile for the first time in my life today, son. I'm sure he'll be just fine. Double his visiting time as well. One hour seems too short for gathering proper information anyway._

_Whatever you want, Mr. Wade._

- - - -  
Had the world always been such a spectrum of colors? Especially that auburn tone; the most noticeable out of the rest. He was dazed, this boy, and as he reached our for the world set before him, he fell into utter darkness. What he saw next was a grassy hill, and a top that hill was a barren tree. Attached to said tree was a swing, and by the looks of it he guessed it was an ancient one. Ignoring the sudden pain that seized his head, the boy trudged up toward the hill. He was walking fast, though the world around him was moving at a snail's pace. Another auburn flash crossed his path of vision, and he found himself a top the hill and standing beside the tree. Taken back by such an odd thing, the boy placed his right hand against the same side of his face. There he stood, without a word and with his eyes closed. Opening them up after a silent moment, he turned to look at the decaying and rotting piece of wood that would be the swing's seat. He reached out for the swing, his mind a blank slate, but stopped upon hearing the murmuring of someone close by. He turned to look over his shoulder, and the world around him began to spin with color.

He was now away from the tree, and sitting before him at a table were two individuals. One was a small girl, adorned with tresses of black hair and pale skin. Over her petite body she wore the simplest of clothing: a bland red dress. She was drawing a picture of something, but the boy wasn't interested enough in it to take notice. Sitting across from her, wearing a bland white t-shirt and blue jeans, was a blonde haired boy. His back was turned to the boy, so his face and appearance was unseen. Reaching out from him, the boy took his hand and placed it on his shoulder. The small girl in red stopped her relentless drawing to look up at him. The blonde boy dropped his pencil as well, straightening his back as he turned to face him. Slowly, and before his face could be seen, both the hill and the two individuals vanished from sight. The boy fell backwards as the auburn world before him shook and faded into black ash. Similar to a fuzzy television screen, the picturesque world he had come to know turned into nothing but static, and then...nothing.

_**-'Will you draw with me, A—ks?'**_  
_- - - -  
_

An awful stench filled his nostrils, and with a gagging breath he forced back the vomit that threatened to leave his mouth. The taste of such an awful thing lingered on the tip of his tongue, though it never did reach that far. The horrid taste that fouled his mouth and taste buds caused him to cringe, and as he did so, he opened up his eyes. What he thought would be light, was darkness. He was staring into the depths of a black and silent void; had is eyes actually opened? The entire ordeal caused him to feel light headed, so to relieve the feeling he went to place his right hand over his eyes. If he was calm, and hidden from such a dark place, perhaps his nausea would vanish on its own.

He moved his arm, but it remained in its outstretched position. In fact, his hand as well wouldn't cooperate with him. Grunting, he tried his other arm. Neither did his arm, or hand, move from their elongated position. He dropped his head, in a sign of utter defeat, and opened his mouth to release a well deserved sigh. When he did so, a single blue orb illuminated itself within the void of darkness and sparkled against his pale skin. Looking up toward the light, the boy's face was now partially revealed.

Pale skin, tinted a gentle blue, glowed through the darkness that surrounded him. White hair, almost the same tone as his skin, fell loosely into his face and covered the tips of his ears. Crimson colored oculars gave off the appearance of an albino, teen-aged boy. With dilated pupils, and a stern scowl, the white haired boy glanced up and away from the blue orb of light as he began to struggle against his confinements. The light revealed his shoulders to the dark world, and the metal devices that were tightly clamped around them. The boy began to struggle even more. Oddly enough, he never once shouted out for help.

As he shook and struggled, a dozen or so more lights illuminated themselves amongst the darkness. The boy's entire upper torso could be seen now; a built and slender chest, adorned with a circular wound on his upper right pectoral glowed against the azure light.

A crease of white light slithered down the center of the void, and caused the boy's eyes to forcefully shut. Cold wind swept up his body, starting from his bare feet to his exposed face and neck. As he attempted to open his eyes, the boy watched as two large, dome-shaped doors creaked open and revealed to him a world of blurry images and white light. He growled and grunted from the burning sensation that the light brought forth to his eyes, and held back a vomit-filled gag induced by the blurry and askew images.

The large, mechanical doors gave one final creak before sliding down and disappearing into the floor beneath the boy. The metal contraptions that covered his arms up to his elbows opened with a hiss of smoke, and released him from their metallic grasp. Another device, this one covering his legs, opened with a hiss of smoke as well and unclasped themselves from him. With nothing holding the naked, white haired boy up, he fell to the cold floor and slammed head first into a small puddle of black liquid.

He remained on the ground for a moment, without a word, before propping himself up with a slender hand and elbow. As he lifted his head up, the sensation of vomiting reached him again. Not being able to hold it back any longer, the boy's body shook once before he let a hot, black liquid slip past his pale lips. He coughed and gagged, loathing the feeling of it all, and ultimately ended up on his right side. Feeling utterly sick and dazed, the boy curled himself up into a ball and groaned out in pain. His body felt as if it were suffering from third degree burns, or simply melting from the inside out.

He was scared. Why wouldn't he be? Awakening in such a place, apparently sick and disorientated beyond reasonable comprehension would have that effect on someone. But, pushing that aside and out of his mind, what he truly was afraid of was that he couldn't recall as to why he was put into such a machine. Why did he feel sick? Why was he restrained like a vile criminal? And why did his body feel as if it were burning?! All these questions he wanted answered. Right now.

Blinking, he found the resolve to uncurl himself from his protective ball and sit up. The white haired boy sat naked on the cold floor of the, apparently, laboratory-themed room. Taking a glance around the room, when he was still in a partial daze, even he could notice the many test tubes, beakers, and empty veils that littered every single bench and desk top he could see. A computer desk as well was smothered in the dusty lab equipment, but to his surprise lacked the dust and age that the other materials had. He furrowed his brow, feeling a wave of curiosity come over him. Flexing both his fingers and his toes, the white haired boy reached down for the tile floor as he attempted to stand.

Feeling as though this was his first time standing, the boy reached up for the ceiling and stretched. He groaned as he cracked his shoulders, followed by the popping of his neck and key locations in his back. He was unaware of the metal, blinking device that was fused with the back of his neck. And when he moved, it moved as if it were a part of his skin. You could see his spinal cord beneath his skin move, and as it did so the device moved as well. Glancing off to his right, he sighed, still unaware.

As he took a step toward the computer desk, he managed to step on a random beaker and crush it into dozens of sharp pieces. Glancing down at the mess, he lifted his foot and found no shards of glass implanted into his tender, burning flesh. Cocking a brow, he shoved the shards of glass away with his foot and stepped up toward the desk. Grabbing at his head, the boy reached for the rolling chair accompanying the cluttered desk and pulled it out. Placing his bottom down on it, he shivered once the cold material of the seat made contact with his bare flesh. Not caring that he was naked, the boy opened up his legs and made himself more comfortable on the chair. He then reached for a random test tube, looking through it with an indifferent look before placing it back down on the desk. Like his mind, the test tube was blank and empty.

Taking hold of a few documents, the boy scanned them all before setting them back down on the table. They were letters, written to some person named Harlan. Beside from the letters, there were documents consisting of experimentation scores and random numbers with words accompanying them that the boy didn't understand. With a grunt he turned away from the useless papers, and with that stood from his cold seat. The white haired boy moved away from the computer desk, and with unnecessary courtesy wheeled the chair back into the slot fused with the desk.

His crimson toned oculars squinted into a glare as his vision passed over the reflective screen of the blank computer. It was the first time he had ever seen himself; he wasn't very impressed. His physical appearance was the farthest thing from his mind, though he did take notice of his oddly colored hair and eyes. Reaching out for the screen, he allowed three of his fingers to press up against its cold surface. His digits traced the outline of his face; going across the curve of his jaw, down the collarbone that rested above his chest. It was now that he took notice of two identical, darkened scar marks. They started from the corners of his neck, and went down passed his collarbone. Turning his head to the side, he was shocked to see what was connected to the back of his neck. He began to panic.

Reaching out for the device, he took hold of it and pulled. The only thing it caused him was splitting pain, and he dropped to a knee because of it. Oddly furious, the boy swung his left arm out to the side and made contact with the computer desk. Lifting up from the ground, the entire desk, as well as the chair, flew into the air and made contact with the large glass window that bordered the entire eastern wall of the room. He opened his eyes to the sound of shattering glass, and turned to see that the entire window was shattered and in in disarray.

_**-'Awakening from such horrors only brings anguish and hate, doesn't it?'**_

The voice that wrecked his mind caused him to convulse, forcing him to wrap his arms around his naked self and groan. An auburn flash crossed his path of vision, and then another until all he could see was a distorted laboratory room. Standing a foot away from him was a man dressed in mock-military attire and combat boots. His head was shaved down to a crew-cut, his skin was pale, and his eyes were a sinister charcoal color. He stared down at the boy, his visage that of disinterest.

"I found you there," he mentioned as he turned to look at the empty device the boy had just emerged out from. "...she wanted me to let you free, regardless of what I had to say about it." turning from him, the male glanced across the room before walking toward the device itself. "The device is called a 'holding station', or something along the lines of that. I don't know much, for the memories aren't my own," standing in front of the large contraption, the male placed his arms behind his back and chuckled. "You were born here, in this place. I was there-"

"-Who are you?" asked the boy as he cut the strange male off. This was his first time speaking, and boy did his voice leave a lasting impression. Standing to his feet, the white haired boy turned to glare viciously at the other. The male looked over his shoulder toward the boy, and turned his lips upward into an emotionless smile.

"I know who I am," he stated with a monotone drawl. "...What about you, boy? Do you know who you are?" the male chuckled again, it of course laced with no particular emotion. He calmly stared at the boy, waiting for him to answer his question. When it looked as if the boy would not reply, the male decided to change his question.

"...Did you ever think you were put here for a reason?" the male stood in silence after that. He wanted the white haired boy to answer.

"...Someone asked me that once," said the boy as he glanced off to the side. He stared at nothing In particular. "I can't remember who...I can't remember anything," as if pained, he shut his eyes and clenched at the circular wound embedded into his chest. "...Not even my name."

"_Foul deeds will arise, though all the earth's o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes_...They taught me warfare. I learned Shakespeare on my own." the male gave the boy a final glance before turning to walk away. He faded into ash just as the boy reached our for him; along with him went the distorted lab room and atmosphere. He was left alone again, but not for long.

Jumping through the broken window, rolling onto the floor amongst the shards of broken glass, was a commando-military-like man. He wore a black combat suit, and matching helmet and visor. Standing to his feet, he reached for his gun and pointed it at the naked boy. Taking a few steps back, he threw his arms up in defense as the man unloaded an entire round on him.

**-Fin.**


End file.
